


First Time Caller

by eyemeohmy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4503426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A first, and a last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time Caller

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was Brainstorm and Quark's first intimate encounter. Here's a short angsty thing. Unrequited love or secret crush, you decide.
> 
> Also, much thanks: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJ0XNDaFXg8

Quark stood at his work station, scribbling down notes as his optics flicked from datapad to datapad. He’d been too immersed in work to notice it had gotten dark, and his shift was over; it wasn’t unusual for him to pack in overtime, and even spend a few nights in the lab. The janitor, Sweep, greeted him casually, but Quark hadn’t even noticed the mech enter, dump a few trash bins, good evening, working late again, well, don’t work too hard now, and leave.

The most he ever got back was a grunt or curt nod, but beyond that, Sweep might as well have been a ghost. Not that being invisible was anything unusual to him, given his position in society, so even a glance acknowledging his existence might as well have been a friendly slap on the back and hey, how’s the bleach smellin’ today?

It’d been a little over a half hour since Sweep left Quark to his work. The bot was close to finishing for the night; no more sleeping over, the cot he set up here was bad for his back. He sighed, slowly and sluggishly crawling back to reality, and was just about to switch off the first datapad when something behind him hit the ground and shattered.

It was loud in this big, empty laboratory, and all at once Quark was startled out of his daze; he whipped around with a gasp, half-expecting to lecture Sweep for being so clumsy around expensive equipment. But it wasn’t the janitor standing just a few feet behind him, lingering in the shadows.

“Sigma,” Quark exvented heavily, placing hand and stylus over his spark, “you nearly scared the coolant out of me.” He glanced up, adjusting his glasses. “What are you doing here, anyway? Didn’t you leave early today?”

Brainstorm took two heavy steps forward and stopped. Quark didn’t like the look of bewilderment on his face. As if he were looking at a ghost.

“What’s wrong with you?” Quark asked. “Are you okay?” Ideas started to swell in his head; worst case, paranoid scenarios, but before they could run rampant, Brainstorm spoke, in a spooked voice that matched his shocked face.

“I did it.”

Quark cocked a browplate. “Pardon?” he murmured. He almost didn’t want to know, especially if “it” had Brainstorm so apparently shaken up.

“I did it,” Brainstorm repeated in a hoarse whisper. He swallowed, clearing his vocalizer. His optics were wide. He took the last few steps over to Quark; hesitant at first, before standing just a mere inch from his partner.

Quark frowned. “You’re making me a little nervous, Brainstorm. What happened–” He went silent instantly as Brainstorm wrapped his arms around him. It was a tight hug, almost crushing, and after Quark got over the initial surprise, he pushed at the flier’s chest. “H-Hey, you’re cutting off fuel circulation!”

Brainstorm did not respond, nor did he let go. If anything, he squeezed tighter, burying his face against the side of Quark’s head.

“Brainstorm!”

Brainstorm reluctantly dropped his arms, stepping back.

Quark vented air, straightening himself out. “What was that for?” he demanded, fixing his tilted glasses. “I swear, if you’re overcharged, I am not paying for your cab ride home. Not this time.”

Brainstorm just stared.

“… Seriously, Brainstorm,” Quark murmured, now truly uneasy, “what’s going on?”

Brainstorm opened his mouth, and closed it again. “Can I just…?” As before, he swept in, taking Quark’s face in his hands, bowing down to–

“ _Stop_!” Quark gasped, instinctively shoving him back. “What’s gotten into you!?”

Brainstorm’s optics flashed. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he choked, hands covering his face in shame, “I’m just… I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t–I tried so hard… But I had to see you again. Even if… Even if I fail, I couldn’t…” He shook his head. “ _I’m so sorry, Quark_.”

Quark flinched. He could hear the edge of a sob in Brainstorm’s voice. He sat his stylus down and stepped up to the flier. “Let’s sit down,” he murmured, taking one of Brainstorm’s hands from his face. Brainstorm’s optic widened, staring at the hand holding his so delicately. “I’ll get you something to drink, and we can talk. But right now…”

“No,” Brainstorm interjected, and suddenly seemed to sober up completely. He stood straight. He squeezed Quark’s hand holding his. “I have work to do. I’m almost done. Then–then we’ll talk.” His optics creased, brightening. “We can talk for years and years.”

Quark was beyond confused, even a little scared. “I think–”

Brainstorm bowed down, and pressed their foreheads together. He closed his eyes, smiled, and took a deep breath. Quark blinked, but did not push him back this time.

“It’s almost over,” Brainstorm said, letting Quark’s hand go.

“What’s ‘almost over’?” Quark asked.

Brainstorm said nothing. He turned and headed for the door. Quark watched as he picked something up–a briefcase?–before leaving. He stood there, staring out the empty door for a moment, before quickly crossing the room and rushing out into the hall. Nobody was there–Brainstorm was gone.

The next day, Quark confronted Brainstorm about last night’s escapades. Brainstorm looked confused, denying ever visiting Quark that night. He’d been home since he left work. Quark was getting annoyed, but then Brainstorm started to tease him about his paranoia and overworking, and Quark chalked it up to the flier just being his usual eccentric self.


End file.
